Inevitable
by Skeexikx
Summary: It really is inevitable that they'd find love in each other's arms, don't you think? Tintin&Haddock all the way…Slash, just in case you were wondering. Yeah. From me - who'da thunk! Eight chapters and they get hotter as they go!
1. The Spark

Inevitable

It really was inevitable that they'd find love in each other's arms, don't you think? Tintin&Haddock all the way…Slash, just in case you were wondering. Yeah. From me - who'da thunk! Eight chapters and they get hotter as they go…

…

Really – how can it not be inevitable? I could go through analogy after analogy, but let's face it…they belong together.

Along with that sentiment, the inspiration for this story was a drawing I found surfing through the internet for tintinxhaddock images (ahh – internet, you give us all such sweet, sweet things for our passions…) and came across a drawing described in paragraph six through ten (with some artistic license as I added my own place/reason to the scene…). I would give credit where due, but unfortunately the artist chose to refer to themselves as 'anonymous' though there is a tag 'Stubborn_child_by_tpt' (search by that and you'll find the drawing). If by some strange twist of fate and that person reads this – thank you from the bottom of my Tintin and Haddock obsessed heart.

Don't own Tintin&Company – Moulinsart does.

To perdition with grammatical apologies.

Hope you enjoy fellow T&H shippers…

… The Spark

It really was inevitable their coming together. After all, one doesn't share all the experiences they had without becoming closer than close. They had started out as two people who needed aid in a desperate situation, had become friends, then trusted companions and finally as close as two people could get without actually becoming physically intimate.

They were quite comfortable in touching each other in a friendly manner - the hand on shoulder or arm or wrapped around waist and had no trouble in standing so close that they were looking into each other eye to eye. They had seen each other naked, had slept in same hotel room, tent, prison cell, sleeping bag, rocket.

But neither one had ever taking that step that lead from mere friendship to something so much more.

All it needed was a simple impetus, a slight spark, the light yet oh so important nudge.

And received it by standing together in a hospital emergency room, holding onto each other gently yet securely.

Neither one was hurt horribly, nor suffered debilitating injuries. A scrape on one cheek here, a cut on another's cheek there, scattered bruises along with muscles sore and bones achy from yet another adventure that had found its usual satisfying if not overwhelmingly insane conclusion.

Their clothes were filthy and stained in places, and they were both worn out and wanted nothing better than to go home and relax.

But they continued to stand together, alone in the small room, both having been released by the doctors with the admonition to take it easy for a while. The younger man, his ginger hair sporting its tuft that never seemed to wilt, had his hands on either side of the bearded older man, fists clenched into the dark blue, thick sweater. His head was down and he stared unseeingly, frowning slightly, but perhaps that was just because of how tired he was.

The older man had his arms around the smaller figure, one hand resting gently on the back of the youth's neck, the other hand just below and to one side. His eyes were closed, his expression one of fatigued gratefulness.

Neither one said a thing, just stood there taking and giving solace, knowing that once again they had pulled through odds no bookmaker would ever take and had come out not only alive, but victorious as usual.

It was hard to say which one sighed first or gave a subtle shift of weight but by unspoken consent they stepped away. One head tilted up a bit and the other down and they gave each other a rueful smile.

"Shall we go, my boy?"

"Yes, I am more than ready to say goodbye to this latest adventure."

"Aye, this was a tough one."

"Mmm. But we did it, didn't we?"

"Indeed we did, laddie, but not without getting caught in the usual mayhem. I swear, Tintin…"

"Now Captain, all's right that end's right and this one ended right. The criminals are going to prison, and we're going home with just the usual assortment of bumps and bruises."

A not so soft snort replied to that statement, and the youth only shook his head good naturedly.

Limping a little from sore knee, swaying a bit from being knocked out (again), they made their way to the exit, collected one somewhat patiently waiting white terrier who gave them quite the talking to, having had to wait outside like some common cur without even a chicken bone to keep it company and then the three of them made their slow way to the nearest train station.

Once again fortune smiled upon them and they found a train leaving within a half hour that would take them back to home, sweet blessed home. As they waited for the conductor's cry to board, they shared schnitzel, salted pretzels and a large bottle of orange drink bought from nearby vendors, still selling their wares at this late hour. The older man (and dog, for that matter) would have enjoyed a beverage of a stronger nature, but wisely said nothing.

Hearing the "Aaaall Aboaaard", they winced and made small noises of discomfort as bodies that had become somewhat relaxed were forced to move once more. Climbing on board they travelled from one compartment to another until they found one that was unoccupied – not wanting any company but their own.

Collapsing upon the padded bench, they all heaved sighs of relief. The Captain was next to the window, Tintin next to him, and Snowy had lain beside his master, furry muzzle laid across thigh, a soft hand gently stroking his ears just right.

They sat there and stared unseeingly at the bench across from them, neither one of them even realizing that either one could have sat upon it. It was given no more notice than the air they breathed. It was just there.

A small jerk that had them all tensing up a bit as bodies were suddenly pushed forward and then pulled backwards and they were off. There were many miles to go and hours to spend but they were on their way home. Three sets of lungs expanded and then let out low, soft sighs.

The only one not staring out the window was the dog, softly snoring as he lay curled against his beloved boy. The older man had his head turned slightly, his eyes at half mast. The youth gazed out at utter darkness that was relieved only by a tiny light of far-off farm house or the occasional streetlamp at the occasional crossing.

The only noise the rhythmic clacking of wheels or the creaking of rail car as it swayed back and forth with the mournful sound of train whistle as infrequent accompanist.

Tintin sighed and shifted in his seat, his muscles stiffened from having sat for so long. He laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.

The older man shifted as well and Tintin unthinkingly shifted in response, bending forward as an arm was placed around him. He shifted once more, snuggling a little into the warmth and comfort. He could smell the tobacco and whisky along with the ever present tang of sea air that permeated the fabric and inhaled the soothingly familiar scents and took a long, deep breath, holding those aromas until his lungs began to protest.

"Go to sleep, have a long way to go." the Captain's gruff voice murmured.

"Mmmm, maybe…for a little while." Tintin whispered back and closed his eyes. But he really didn't want to sleep. Not that he wasn't tired – he was utterly and completely exhausted. But he had come to realize something, something ephemeral yet also straightforward…

This was what he enjoyed the most about adventures.

Yes, he got quite the thrill from learning about a mystery, discovering clues and piecing them together, confronting the no-gooders and delivering them up to justice. But when it was all said and done, this…this is what made it all worthwhile.

Sitting safe and warm, high and dry, comfy and cozy with his best friend - knowing that everything was all right with the world, they had looked the dragon in the eye, pulled the tiger's tail, spun the wheel of fate and had walked away intact (relatively speaking - not withstanding a bruise or two…).

As much as Tintin enjoyed being whirled around by the hurricane that made up his usual day to day activities, he had realized a long time ago that he relished being in the calm of its eye. Just as he knew a lot to do with that calm came from the man who was next to him, the man he was leaning against, snuggled into his side, arm holding him gently and securely.

One couldn't very well walk into a viper's nest as if into a field of flowers - not if you had somebody with you and not be concerned about their welfare. All well and good if you had no-one but yourself to look after, but when there was another, well that was a different story all together. He knew how much the older man cared about him, cared deeply. Loved really.

And Tintin loved back just as deeply.

Sighing a bit contentedly, Tintin snuggled his head into the crook of the man's shoulder, closed his eyes and managed to drop off…

…


	2. The Ember

… The Ember

The clanging of a railroad crossing signal jerked Tintin awake and he sat up a bit disconcerted. "Where…"

"Go back to sleep; only been a few minutes." A gentle voice announced next to him and reality sank in.

"Ah." He murmured as he sat up and stretched, his breath hissing a little at all the sore muscles. He felt the arm around him tighten and he relaxed back. "Why don't you go to sleep Captain, you have to be just as tired."

"I'm fine, lad."

Tintin smiled. It had become an unspoken rule, one or the other kept watch unless they were absolutely certain they were completely safe. He doubted they were in any danger here, but old habits die hard. Settling back down, he turned his head and once more continued to gaze out at nothing, the jolt of adrenaline having banished sleep for the time being.

Raising his eyes he looked up at the man next to him: the Captain, his Captain. Friend extraordinaire, companion without compare, amigo, buddy, mate, pal, partner, chum. And yet, there was more to their partnership than anything those words could describe. A marriage stronger than any vow could bind, a trust no legal contract could demand.

Tintin gazed upon his friend and took in the man's features – the dark beard covering half his face, the weathered skin that wrinkled around small but very bright blue eyes. The cap hid the man's shaggy, thick straight hair. The nose was large and very distinctive, the cheeks straight and a bit craggy and though one couldn't tell due to the whiskers that concealed it, you just knew the chin had a very determined angle to it.

A friendly face but also one you didn't mess with, not if you knew better, that was for sure. There was a temper beneath that visage and it was quite a strong one. Many an idiot had fallen victim to its force.

A face Tintin had fallen in love with a long time ago. He really couldn't point to any date on a calendar and say that's when, that's the exact moment he had gone from loving the older man to being in love with him, but there it was. A truth as absolute as the sun rising in the east, swallows returning to Capistrano, spring following winter.

As if sensing the youth's thoughts the Captain looked down at his young friend and thought – not for the first time – how very special the lad was to him. His life had gotten better the second the lad had popped into it and had just kept getting better. There was nothing he wouldn't do for the young man.

He knew how gruff he could be, knew he could growl and snap, but also knew the boy was aware that the older man's bark was much worse than his bite. There had been times when both of them had become irritated with the other for one thing or another, but not once had their differences caused them to permanently part. It was unthinkable. Like having the tides go out and not return. Have dinner before breakfast. Drink whiskey from a wine glass.

He smiled down at that seemingly eternally boyish face – not much different from when he'd first seen it – the wide, intelligent eyes, the softly rounded features, a creamy complexion whose peachy cheeks and round button of a nose sported a constellation of freckles. A small mouth that could smile delightedly one minute and frown with concentration the next.

A friendly face, but one that hid an amazing amount of conviction, strength and assurance. A face you didn't mess with, if you knew better. It had fooled many a fool into false bravado only to be brought up short by someone they least expected to thwart their nefarious plans.

A face the Captain loved. Loved whole-heartedly. Loved fiercely and almost fearfully – as he knew the boy could get into the most death-defying jams. There had been times he felt for sure his heart would give out just from the anxiety alone of hoping the lad would walk away from the latest adventure. He knew for sure his heart would stop if anything ever did happen…

He also knew for certain he had fallen in love with the youth during that first fateful meeting. He hadn't realized it at the time of course, but on later reflection knew to the depth of his core that he had been hit on the head with something much stronger than a couple of boards tied together with rope. And what had hit him was pure, absolute, make your heart leap and knees buckle love.

For a long moment they gazed at each other, feeling the pull of something momentous just about to happen…

Tintin raised his head up just a bit and the Captain lowered his and mouths met, lips touched.

There was no hesitation, no pulling back. Neither one gasped in surprise or stiffened in shock. Nor did they throw their arms around each other and cry out hallelujah.

They kissed. Softly. Gently. A meeting of lips that pressed against each other. An agreement, an introduction, a 'hi, how do you do?' moment. Eyes searched eyes and then closed as if by shared consent.

Just as softly, just as gently they parted, their lips barely touching, breaths mingling. Again they pressed forward and again kissed gently, softly. Over and over they pressed their mouths together and lips twitched as if trying to map out the other's topography. Gentle sighs were shared.

A shift of position here, a turn of a shoulder there and they faced each other more. A hand that had been wrapped around shoulder came up to cup around head – the fingers stroking the short, lush hair; a hand that had been buried in fur buried itself into bulky sweater. One arm that was caught between them twisted enough to also bury fingers into same said sweater. A free hand reached out and ran caressing fingers down soft, downy cheek.

Several minutes went by completely unheeded as they grew even more comfortable with this new and very satisfying method of expressing their love for one another. Neither one felt any need to explain. This was right.

They parted more from a need for air than for any need for space. They gazed at each other with slight smiles on their faces that conveyed each other's sense of satisfaction along with an agreement, a shared realization that this was far from over. They both gave and received the approval to continue on, let's keep going, no reason to stop now.

Tintin shifted a little so as to free his hand, needing to wrap it around the Captain's shoulders and pull the man closer. At the same time he raised his head back up and captured the older man's lips with his own, felt them return the affection. Once again they became involved in sharing each other's mouths and breaths, and slowly lips began to part as the kisses became stronger, more passionate.

Tongue tips rested just behind lips, and mouths pushed hard, pressing those lips against harder teeth. Suddenly they pulled back, gave each other a look that said volumes and just as rapidly pressed back, mouths open wide and fully accepting each other's tongues.

Sighs, low moans and eager whimpers began to be uttered; hands clenched more securely, breaths quickened.

…


	3. The Flame

… The Flame

Sitting back and panting a bit from having just kissed frenetically, Tintin and the Captain regarded each other with delighted amazement.

"Lad?" The older man whispered.

"Yes…Archie?" Tintin replied breathlessly, running his tongue over his lips, surprised how swollen they felt, yet not minding the discomfort in the least. He could taste the Captain's essence.

"You're the one who can figure out the mysteries. Why haven't we done this before?"

"I...I don't know. I guess…we…just weren't…ready?"

"Hmmf. Yes, suppose so. Things happen in their time. Still…wish we had come to this little moment of insight a bit sooner, can't help but think of wasted time."

Tintin grinned back up at the older man. "Well, we'll take the time now, won't we?"

"Aye lad, that we will." Responded the Captain, his blue eyes twinkling.

Tintin closed his eyes and began to raise his head up and felt the Captain stop him. Frowning he glanced up to find his friend smiling down at him. "Just want to look at ya, my boy. Always wanted to, just never got the chance."

"But…you've looked at me before." Tintin replied, a bit confused.

"Ah, there's looking and then there is looking. And I want to look at you not just with my eyes, my boy, but with my hands as well. My hands have needed to explore your face for a long time and now that I can, well…"

Putting action to his words, the older man began to run his large, calloused fingers ever so gently all around Tintin's features, exploring from forehead to chin, from one ear across cheeks and bridge of nose to the other.

Tintin closed his eyes and enjoyed the soothing yet oddly enervating touch, and when light kisses began to follow along the path the fingers took, moaned a little and couldn't help but feel a light shiver take hold of him. Eyelids were carefully caressed, the eyelashes lightly brushed by tip of thumb then softly kissed.

"Ohhh lad, you're so beautiful…" the Captain whispered. Tintin contemplated that depiction. He'd heard himself described many a way – mostly in ways that referred to his childlike manner, but he'd never had anyone call him beautiful. But he didn't have to question it; the conviction in the man's voice was proof enough.

Opening his eyes he grinned widely back at his friend. He saw the man begin to frown slightly.

"I mean it. You are beautiful, don't care if that's not how a male should be called, I call a spade a spade, you know that…"

Tintin silenced what could easily become a tirade by kissing the Captain quite ardently. Pulling back, he gazed deeply into the blue eyes. "I know that, it's okay. You can call me anything you like, you know that. And if you find me beautiful, then that's what I am."

"And now it's my turn to explore your face." Tintin announced decisively and began to run his fingers and hands through the wiry beard and trace the wrinkles with fingertips. He knocked the hat off and buried his hand in the thick swatch of hair and smiled at how what looked coarse was actually quite soft. Every inch of exposed flesh was treated to quick kisses. Just as he got to the tip of the Captain's impressive nose than the older man's head tilted up and the large mouth captured his smaller one in a very ardent kiss, the tongue sliding deep.

Tintin kissed back just as strongly, his hands holding the Captain's head securely, his fingers flexing back and forth through the black hair. The Captain's hands were clasped onto Tintin's shoulders and were pulling him closer until they were pressed chest to chest, their bodies turned at almost ninety degree angles from their hips.

Breaking apart they sat back, both of them out of breath and a bit overwhelmed from the ardor. In a short while they had gone from friendship to passion. Neither one of them was remotely romantic and this explosion of emotion would take some time to get used to, no matter that each one was quite happy at the direction their relationship had taken.

They sat there together, arms still around each other and shared looks of slightly nervous anticipation, both wanting to go further upon this wonderful discovery but not quite sure what path to take. It wasn't as if Tintin had any experience with this sort of thing, and though the Captain did, his few and far between love affairs had never been anything like this.

This was way too important to just rush into. And yet…both of them needed each other, wanted each other and sensed that fact as surely as if it was written on the wall in front of them. If there were two people that treaded where angels feared to go, it was Tintin and the Captain. Intrepid explorers were their middle names and they weren't about to be kept back from finding gold at the end of this rainbow.

"Tintin…you okay there lad?"

Tintin could hear both the concern and the unspoken question and answered both. "Yes. Quite okay. The most okay I've ever been. I don't want to stop. Just need…to catch my breath, that's all."

"Aye." The older man chuckled. "This is rather…new and exciting. Didn't know I was in for another adventure so soon after the last one…"

Laughing delightedly, Tintin leaned toward his friend. "Same here, but I'm enjoying this one immensely and I can't quite see us getting kidnapped because of it."

Quieting, he glanced across at the seat in front of him and realized that Snowy had decided that he would have a much more restful snooze without all the commotion going on. The dog had woken from a most satisfying nap to find his master and friend hugging each other rather ferociously and he had been shoved to one side. Enough of that, dogs needed their sleep if they were to accompany a young master on various quests. Needed chickens too, but that wasn't going to be rectified soon.

"Sorry, Snowy. Didn't mean to upset you." Tintin apologized and got a tail wag in reply, forgiven completely.

Glancing a bit shyly at his friend, Tintin turned a bit. "So…kiss some more?" he asked.

The Captain pulled him into an embrace. "With pleasure, my boy."

Once more they pressed mouths against each other, opening lips and sharing tongues. Bodies turned even further, so that legs threatened to become entangled. There was a jumble of limbs, a muttered curse and a sigh of exasperation and then they sorted themselves out to find that Tintin was now sitting on the Captain's lap. Much better. Arms were now free to explore even more areas that were previously unattainable. Backs and hips, sides and shoulders along with chests were rubbed by gentle, caressing hands.

It was Tintin who pulled back, turning away slightly, his chest heaving. Seeing the concerned look the Captain gave him, he tried to get his breathing under control. "Sorry…it's okay. It's just…I'm getting warm…umm, that is…" He could feel his face blushing.

"Going too fast are we, my boy? We can take a break if you'd like?"

"No. I mean…I don't want to stop. I want to…go on, go further…ummm. I'm, er…hot." Tintin had never asked for this in his life. But he was nothing if not brave and he'd gone into more dangerous directions. He hoped he had interpreted the heat that rose in his friend's eyes correctly.

Tintin lowered his gaze down his body, to one area in particular. "I'm…responding…to all this…rather, er, strongly…"

He glanced up and saw the Captain's eyes look down as well. "Ah, I see." Looking at the youth he asked softly, "You've never been touched by another, have you?" Seeing the lad shake his head, his eyes a bit wide, he smiled comfortingly. "Didn't think you had, but there was a time I didn't know you. Tell me lad, do you touch yourself?"

"Occasionally. Yes, I have."

"Like it?"

Tintin blushed even more, but nodded his head decisively. "Yes, very much so."

"Would you like me to?" the Captain whispered.

"Please…"

…


	4. The Blaze

… The Blaze

The feel of that large hand as it placed itself upon the bulge in Tintin's pants and then lightly press caused the youth to instantly respond, arching back and pushing his groin up into the weight. The warmth of the hand seeping into his even hotter flesh made the experience that much more amazing and Tintin moaned his pleasure. And he moaned even louder as that hand began to fondle and caress him, rubbing back and forth.

He shifted his hips as he felt his arousal strengthen even more, stiffening and swelling until it was straining against his trousers. The Captain's hand was now wrapped around it as much as it could through the constraints of the fabric and Tintin shifted his hips again, needing his shaft to be freed from its prison. His breath was panting from his chest, his heart beating rapidly. He began to rock back and forth and groaned from both pleasure and frustration.

He gasped a little as he suddenly found himself picked up, removed from the Captain's lap and placed onto the bench, but didn't have the mental faculty at the moment to question why. He only knew that the feel of that hand on him was the most wondrous thing ever and that he needed more of it.

When the hand lifted and began to fumble at his belt, he wasted no time in giving it the assistance it needed and soon his trousers were open. He sighed as his erection was able to rise higher and then moaned with gratification as his underwear was pulled down, exposing him completely.

Tintin arched his back and groaned as his shaft was enveloped in a warm, rough hand that stroked most tenderly and yet very satisfactorily. He felt the Captain's other arm wrap around his shoulders and he was pulled into a very passionate kiss.

Needing air along with other physical necessities, Tintin pulled away and began to thrust his hips up as the hand stroked down, then down as the hand slid up to the tip. Precum was already giving lubrication but the heat of friction was absolutely heavenly. Uttering mewling cries of delight Tintin bucked faster, feeling the need for release building.

As the hand let go only to begin massaging his very hot and swollen testicles, Tintin let out a loud cry and writhed at the intoxicating sensation. He'd never given himself this much pleasure. He cried out again and found his mouth captured by his friend's and groaned into it. He clutched at the Captain's shoulders with one hand and clasped the wrist of the man's other hand – the one giving the incredible administrations – with the other and held tight.

For a moment the hand left off to push his sweater and shirt up his chest, baring his stomach. The hand brushed against his skin, causing it to quiver.

Once more the hand tightened around his aching, throbbing cock and began rubbing up and down even faster, the grip tighter than before. Feet planted firmly on the floor, Tintin rocketed his hips up and down, the sound of his buttocks hitting the padded bench making a soft slapping noise.

The only reason his cries weren't being heard clearly was because the Captain still had his mouth pressed against Tintin's lips, muffling the sound of them. Tintin wasn't holding back – he groaned and moaned and grunted wordlessly as he continued to strive toward nirvana.

Just as he thought he was going to pass out from the intensity of it all than he attained his goal, the climax causing first his lower belly and inner thighs to quiver, then his balls and finally the shaft itself, twitching with each surge of semen as it spurted out of him. The milky white ribbons arced up and then fell back to land in soft splats upon his naked belly, the last couple surges only burbling out the tip to run down and coat the hand that still held him securely.

Tintin collapsed against the bench, blinking in order to get his vision back, the sparkles just beginning to fade. The Captain had finally released his mouth and Tintin was able to take deep breaths, his body as flaccid as his once proud cock had become. He literally couldn't move if his life depended upon it.

Standing up, the Captain rapidly undid his own trousers and let them fall, a very large bulge poking out of the man's boxers which were just as quickly pulled down, allowing the shaft to spring free and rise to its full glory. Tintin could only stare at his friend's erection. He had seen the man's member before but had never really giving it more than a passing glance and he'd never seen it fully aroused before.

It was quite magnificent. Thick and ridged with veins, the deep purple flesh pulsed and bobbed. Getting the strength from somewhere, Tintin roused himself somewhat.

"Archie…do you want me to…" He murmured, reaching out a trembling hand.

"Aye lad, I do, but right now I'm in a bit of a rush…"

Bending down the older man brought the tip of his leaking cock forward until it was just above Tintin's belly. The Captain gave a few quick strokes and then grunted as he came, the fluid striking Tintin's flesh and mingling with his own recent ejaculation.

For a long moment they regarded each other with expressions of amazed awe. Tintin knew he was still a virgin, but this was sex. With his friend. The Captain. In a train compartment…

Eyes wide he glanced over at the window in the door. The car had occupants other than just them. There was no shocked face at the glass, but what if someone had walked by? Dear God - what if the Conductor had stopped by when they were in the middle of...?! Had someone heard? Thank goodness the Captain had the presence of mind to kiss Tintin when the youth had been in the throes of passion – Tintin certainly hadn't given a thought to keeping himself quiet.

He glanced back up at the older man and caught the look of both embarrassment and…hilarity. Tintin had to press both hands over his mouth to keep his sudden bark of laughter from being heard. The Captain sat down heavily next to him and they clutched at each other, shoulders shaking with mirth.

Finally getting himself under control he caught the other man's eyes, still bright with laughter.

"Oh! My. Do you think…anyone…heard?" he whispered, still chuckling.

"With any luck they're all asleep, it is rather late." The Captain pointed out rather hopefully.

Tintin sat there, giggles shaking his frame from time to time, especially when he caught the other's eye, setting each other off.

"I feel…so…naughty. I know people have, er, sex in places they shouldn't." he grinned conspiratorially. "Never thought I'd be one of them."

The Captain chortled. "Never thought this would happen either, my boy." He glanced down at the drying mass that coated the youth's stomach. "Better clean that up, shouldn't we?"

Frowning, Tintin contemplated making his way to the restroom without being seen. He couldn't imagine trying to sneak down the hallway holding his shirt and sweater up with one hand and his undone trousers with the other. And the Captain needed to be cleaned up as well, there was fluid still on his hand from servicing them both.

The older man leaned close. "We can do this a couple different ways, my laddie boy. I can either go get a washcloth and bring it back, but by the time I do it will probably be cold and that won't be very pleasant."

Tintin shivered just thinking about it. "Or…" He prompted.

"Or, there's this remedy." The Captain replied and leaned over and down. Tintin inhaled sharply at the feel of a warm moist tongue sliding across his belly and he swallowed the cry he wanted to make.

"Captain! You're going to make me cry out again and you can't very well kiss me if you're doing…that." He whispered fiercely.

The only response he received was a rather wicked sounding chuckle. Sitting up a bit, the Captain gave him a lopsided smile, the blue eyes twinkling with merry irreverence. "Guess you'll have to figure out a way to keep the screaming to a dull roar my lad, cause I'm going to be cleaning you up completely."

Tintin's eyes went wide as the implications of that statement sunk into him.

He ended up stuffing his sweater into his mouth and groaning into it, as he had a feeling that biting his knuckles would probably be too painful. And he really didn't want anything interfering with this new and amazing sensation of warm, moist tongue and soft gentle lips on his genitals.

The Captain was thorough but quick, too quick for Tintin's new found needs, but perhaps that was to the best. After all it really was late and they'd had a very trying time of it for the past few days.

Tugging clothes back into position, they wrapped arms around each other and fell asleep with matching smiles upon their faces.

…

**A/N - **Bianca - one sentence added just for you! I think you know which one... :-)


	5. The Bonfire

… The Bonfire

They had woken up to the knowledge that they had taken the first steps towards becoming fully intimate and now that they had, wanted nothing more than sprint to the finish line. They had fallen into an embrace the moment sleepy eyes had opened and focused upon the other, only breaking apart when they heard a conductor announce their stop was a few minutes away.

From that moment on they were incredibly aware of each other, could practically smell the need, feel the other's heart pounding, hear the sharp, quick breaths that spoke of barely restrained urges.

Once off the train they knew they needed to find another place in which they could take the time to explore, touch, taste…become closer than they ever had.

It was a wonder that neither one tripped over or walked into any obstruction as they only had eyes for each other. Hands brushed hands, shoulders and hips bumped together and lips craved the taste that they were denying themselves for the moment. Both of them knew the second those hands entwined or arm wrap around shoulder or waist it would be all over – that they would end up ripping their clothes off and go at it right there in the street.

They found a room (two actually – one for Snowy, who was quite happy to have a bed to himself along with a few bones to snack on). They didn't care what it was like, they didn't care that the proprietor had made a snide remark about not knowing the kid was here if cops happened to show up (not bothering to correct his inaccurate impression of the youth's actual age), didn't care that there were sounds of similar activities taking place in the other rooms in the joint. They'd stayed at worst places that Michelin had never heard of let alone award any stars to.

Hands shaking it took both of them to guide the key into the lock and open the door. And then it was body pressed to body, mouths devouring, hands grabbing and pulling, stroking and squeezing. They found it rather hard to pull off sweaters and shirts and still keep lips locked tight but somehow managed to get through the agony of having to part for the second or two it took to rip tops off and toss to one side.

Pants never got the chance to join the rest of the clothes, as once they were opened than hands dived in to rub and stroke each other's arousals that had needed release hours ago.

A step or two and Tintin's legs hit the bed and he went over backward, the Captain on top of him. They ground against each other, one hand rubbing the other into ecstasy while the other hand fisted in hair or muscle.

Climax came quickly as neither one held back, and seed spurted between them, coating flesh and fabric.

They both lay there panting, both had the same smiles on their faces – triumphant and amazed.

Tintin managed to find his voice first. "My…that was…intense."

A soft chuckle was heard. "Mm-hhm. Yes, it was. But we both needed it, thought I was gonna explode a couple of times."

"I don't think I had a chance to make any noise. It's not always going to be that fast...is it?"

"Nah, lad, we just needed to get it out of our system." The Captain took a deep breath and then rolled off the smaller figure. "Don't you worry, we'll go slower from here on out. Take the time to explore each other, find out what we like and don't like, what makes you scream from delight. And don't worry about holding back; the other occupants are way too involved to give a fig about what we're doing."

Considering the current volume of two people in a room down the hall, Tintin could only nod his agreement.

Taking their time was exactly what they did. For a long and incredibly pleasant time they spent 'looking' at each other's features with mouths, lips and tongues, fingers and palms until every eye was dotted, nose nipped and cheek caressed. Ears were treated to the same loving attention and Tintin found he enjoyed the sensation of lobe being sucked into mouth, rolled around by tongue, nipped at with gentle teeth. Slowly they ranged further out, tasting and stroking necks, shoulders and chests.

The noises they made stayed just as soft as their caresses – a sigh here, a moan there, perhaps a low whimper or deeper grunt as a particularly sensitive spot was administered to.

Tintin gasped the first time the Captain suckled his nipple and groaned lightly, pressing his chest up. He groaned louder the harder the older man sucked and then made a short cry as teeth nipped gently.

The farther they explored the greater their urges began to build until once more their cocks stood aroused. Trousers, underwear, shoes and socks were finally discarded as being irritatingly in the way and of no use whatsoever.

Sitting up the Captain glanced down at the youth's shaft that was already moist at the tip. "Want me to do what I did last night lad? And this time you'll be able to yell all you want."

"Mmmm, yes. Please. And then… can I do you?"

"Absolutely my boy! That is if I can hold out, not so young anymore and once I start, hard to stop mid-stream as it were."

"Well then, perhaps I should do you first." Tintin suggested, his eyes bright with eager anticipation.

"Hmmm, sounds good to me, sounds real good." The older man responded, turning over to lie next to Tintin.

Taking the man's heavy shaft into his hand, Tintin began to run his palm up and down, feeling the ridges against his skin. The heat burned into his hand and he began to rub a little harder, a bit faster – making the Captain exhale out a long, deep moan. Tintin shifted and then sat up; turning so he could kneel over the older man. He switched hands so he could cup and fondle the Captain's equally large and heavy balls.

He could see the precum beginning to seep out of the tip and hesitated a moment. True they were here to explore each other but still, he was new at this. "Archie?"

"Hmm lad, doing fine." The man muttered in between his moans, no longer soft but quite vocal.

"Want to taste you, suck you."

"Ahhh! Oh Lord my boy, yes, please." And then let out a very loud cry as Tintin swiped his tongue over the tip of the shaft.

Finding the taste to his liking, Tintin began to lick and then suck, hearing the man groaning and grunting with pleasure, crying out his name at times, exhorting him to suck harder, exclaiming how good it felt.

Needing air, Tintin pulled up for a moment and gazed down at the cock in his hand, the reddened tip wet from both his saliva and the Captain's fluid. A moment later and he rubbed the tip onto his lips and then across his face. Grinning mischievously at the naughtiness of his action, he returned to sucking and licking, realizing that this deed also wasn't exactly covered in Roger's Book of Rules and Miss Manners had never covered this particular action.

It was getting rather hard to keep the tip in his mouth as the Captain was beginning to buck his hips up and down. He tried to take more of it in but could only manage another inch or so.

"Lad…close…to coming." the older man panted out. "First time…listen to me. Don't try…swallow all. Tilt head up to top of mouth… so won't hit…back of throat…"

Tintin had only a second to follow the older man's advice as he felt the shaft begin to twitch and the balls that were still in his other hand quake. Semen shot out and hit the roof of his mouth and Tintin swallowed as fast as he could but soon had ribbons of thick, hot liquid dripping down his chin.

Sitting back he took a moment to catch his breath. Gazing over he found his friend regarding him with incredulous astonishment, a smile of delight on his face.

"Tintin…Come here. Let me kiss you. That was wonderful my boy, simply marvelous."

Moving into the older man's arms, the two quickly began to kiss and the Captain made sure to lick the boy's face clean.

…


	6. The Furnace

… The Furnace

They lay quietly facing each other, fingers tracing random patterns across hairy chest or down smooth back. Slowly the fingers that were caressing a back slid down further until they cupped a buttock, began to fondle and squeeze the firm flesh.

The owner of that firm flesh moaned with delight. Tintin moaned again as those fingers sank into the cleft between his buttocks and ran gently up and down, sending sensations up his spine and deep into his lower belly. Shifting a little he raised his leg and placed it over the Captain's thigh.

The Captain pulled back so he could look into the eyes that were regarding him with a bright, eager gaze. He brought his exploring hand up along the youth's spine and then across a shoulder, slid up the smooth throat and then stopped – one finger poised just at the junction of heavenly lips.

Tintin's gaze never left the other as he opened his mouth and allowed the finger to slide inside, moistening it completely. Slow at first and then gaining speed, that finger began to drive in and out of his mouth in a very familiar rhythm. In and out, back and forth until the Captain withdrew it completely, shining with Tintin's saliva and returned the hand back down and around.

A soft sigh escaped Tintin's lips as a dry finger slid into the crack, found his opening and then slid off, to be replaced by the wet digit. A gentle pressure that increased as the finger pushed inside him. Tintin groaned at the feeling of something wet, hard and stiff entering him and he wriggled just a bit, finding the sensation quite pleasurable.

The finger continued to penetrate until it was completely sunk inside and then rested there. Taking a breath, Tintin began to experiment with this absolutely incredible development by squeezing his anal muscles around the finger, tightening and releasing over and over. His hips moved back and forth and side to side a little, trying to see what different angles might do, increase the pressure here or push against him just so there.

"Liking this?" The Captain asked, but he really didn't have to, as an expression of sheer delight suffused the younger man's face.

"Mmmm, aaahh, yesss. Yes, I do. Oh, please. Move it in and out, like you did with my mouth." Tintin implored, beginning to move his own hips foreward and back in an attempt to drive himself against that finger, a finger that was now moving around inside him and causing all sorts of amazing sensations to his groin. His arousal stiffened even more and his testicles seemed to swell to the point of bursting.

Complying with the youth's demands, the Captain withdrew the finger and then pushed back in, over and over, pressing as deep as he could.

Tintin was going into a paroxysm of movement, bucking and writhing. His moans and grunts had become loud cries of delight. His hands gripped the older man's shoulders quite hard.

As a second finger joined the first, Tintin bucked even harder and cried out louder, exclaiming quite vehemently at how good this felt, so good, so damn good. He said it in English, French, Dutch and Spanish.

And when those fingers pressed deep enough to hit a certain spot, he gasped at the unique pleasure and stopped bucking and arched his back until he was bowed. His feet made drumming motions and his fingers flew off the Captain's shoulders to fist into the sheets.

A moment later and he was gasping for breath only to arch again as the Captain hit the spot again. And again. And again. Tintin was mewling and whimpering, his head whipping back and forth, sweat droplets flying about.

Suddenly the fingers were pulled out and the Captain grabbed hold of Tintin's hips, shoved him flat against the bed, rose to his knees, dived his fingers back under and into Tintin, took hold of the youth's arousal with the other hand and began to finger fuck and stroke him off at the same time.

Tintin spread his legs wide and rode both hands as hard as he could, hips moving frenetically. Somehow he managed not to close eyes that wanted to clench shut and stared back at the Captain who gazed at him, both of their expressions intent. Tintin's mouth was opened wide and the Captain's mouth was a straight line of determination.

His cries had ratcheted up to the shrieking level and Tintin knew he wasn't far from climaxing. He'd never been so hard, so swollen, so painfully full of juices that were rapidly reaching the point at which they would seek liberation.

Letting out one long, ululating cry, Tintin released, his seed jetting from him in spurt after spurt. Most of it landed back on him, but there were a couple of ribbons that had shot out so hard that they landed on the Captain's chest.

Once more Tintin collapsed, spent and dazed. He felt a heavy body drop down next to him and he rolled into the arms that cradled him close, hands that stroked him soothingly, caressed him caringly. Soft lips kissed him sweetly and a loving voice murmured words of adoration.

…


	7. The Inferno

… The Inferno

Rousing, Tintin gave a long, orgasmic stretch, tightening and then loosening the muscles of his recently invaded rectum, noting the still full feeling along with a burning that was just this side of being painful.

"Ooooh, so nice." He whispered.

"Aye, very nice." The Captain whispered back. "So, think we've had enough, ready to call it a day and return to civilization?"

Wide eyed with consternation, Tintin whipped his head up from where it had been snuggled in the hollow of the man's shoulder and regarded the Captain with surprise.

The blue eyes were crinkled with the wide smile that lit the older man's face, and they twinkled with humor.

"Archie!" Tintin protested and gave his friend a slap against a shoulder.

"Easy there, slugger. I know we ain't near done yet. Going to take some time to get this out of our system." Frowning a bit, the Captain continued. "Not sure I want to get this out of my system."

"Me either." Tintin stated fervently. "What you just did, it felt so…incredible. I…want it again, need it again." Reaching out a hand, he laid it on his friend's face, feeling the beard scratching delightfully against his palm. "Please, let's go all the way. I want to feel you inside me, become one with me. Make love to me, my friend. My Captain. My lover."

The older man's eyes became quite bright and shone with emotion. "Aye," he whispered, his gruff voice even rougher. "Aye my boy, my little lad, my lover."

Leaving the bed long enough to root around in the drawer of the battered night stand, the older man located a bottle of lubrication stored there just for its intended purpose. Returning he knelt beside the younger man. With gentle nudges he indicated for Tintin to lay on his back and both spread and lift his legs wide. As the Captain poured the lubrication into his palm, Tintin raised himself up onto his elbows and watched as his friend applied the liquid liberally to his stiffening shaft.

Reaching out a hand, Tintin began to stroke the cock, relishing the feeling of that thick, heavy member in his hand and shivering a little at imagining it sliding inside him, pushing deep, moving in and out of him. He moaned in anticipation.

"Lad, this will probably hurt a bit, might even make you bleed. We can wait, get you more prepared…"

Tintin shook his head. He was quite aware that the action of that thick and long shaft penetrating him would be painful and that his virgin ass would most likely protest at the abuse. But he wanted this so badly. And judging from the burning desire that blazed from the Captain's eyes, the older man wanted it just as much, if not more so.

"No Archie. Let's not wait. I'm tough, you know that. And if it does hurt, well, I know you don't mean to."

'Okay, but you say no and that's that. Not going to cause you pain when I want to give you pleasure."

"It will be pleasurable, I know it." Tintin affirmed.

They reached out for each other and bodies shifted as positions were adjusted. The Captain had one of his arms around Tintin's back, cradling him close, his legs to either side of Tintin's hips. Tintin had wrapped his arms and legs around the older man and was hanging on tight.

Making a last shift, the Captain took his free hand and guided himself until the tip was pressed against Tintin's swollen entrance. Pushing just the tip inside, he removed his hand and then cupped Tintin's buttock with it, raising the boy up.

For a moment they stared at each other, breathing hard, heat rising between them. "Let's do this." Tintin uttered at the same time the Captain inquired "Ready?"

They both groaned at the feeling of hot, throbbing thick shaft being enveloped by hot, tight flesh, the muscles tensing as they were stretched to the ultimate from the wide head. Those muscles relaxed once it had slid past the anal ring, pressing deeper and deeper until the cock was seated completely within, balls pressing against buttocks.

Once more they stared at each other and then as if by some unspoken signal, pulled apart until the head of the cock was once more pressing against the taut ring. Instead of withdrawing, direction was reversed until the shaft was fully engulfed.

Gradually they began to move faster, giving each other time to both get used to and savor the sensations that were soaring through both of them.

There was pain yes, from a too large cock inside a too tight ass, but there was pleasure as well. Intoxicating pleasure, incredibly amazing pleasure that was not just from the physical sensations that such actions were giving.

But from the fact that they had become one. They were lovers. Fully. Completely. Absolutely. They were holding onto each other, wrapped up in each other, melded and joined by not just bodies, but hearts and minds as well.

They stared at each other in matching expressions of adoration, no need to say anything. They had already said everything they had ever needed to say to the other over their long companionship, knew each other emotionally and psychologically so completely as to be of one mind at times.

But this was the first time they'd been of one body, moving together, guiding each other toward a shared plateau of joyful passion the likes of which neither one had ever attained.

As urges and needs began to rise up and take control, it wasn't long before they were clutching at each other with grasping hands, legs tightening in a firm grip, fingers sinking into muscles. Their hips met over and over in a heaving, thrusting force of nature. Swollen genitals were rubbed against hairy belly and buttocks were slapped by equally swollen testicles with each surge forward.

Sweat dripped from them both and the acrid smell filled the room, mingling with the heavy musk of sex and the faint, flowery scent of the lubrication.

Tintin had buried his head against the Captain's chest and swore a blue streak in every language he knew. The Captain was keeping up with him with his own particular brand of curses, a bit surprised the lad was aware of such words but then - was that really so strange? And what of it – if the lad felt the need to use every four and five letter word he knew, well…good for him. The situation certainly called for extreme responses to the extreme emotions and physical sensations they were experiencing.

A few moments more and they had moved to the point where rational thoughts ceased to exist and it was all movement, driving themselves and each other to the highest point achievable.

Cries and screams of zeal rang throughout the room, outdoing anything that had been voiced by other occupants.

The Captain released first and one grunted and the other gasped as semen burst out of one body and deep inside the other, the feeling of twitching cock inside flesh a most unique and incredible experience for the younger man. The sensation was the impetus he needed to release himself and groaned with pleasure and relief as the seed burst between them.

And then it was quiet. Both bodies rocked a little – more to give comfort than to continue the recently expelled passion. The Captain had dropped his head until he was resting against Tintin's shoulder, and Tintin had relaxed his arms and thighs, though he kept them wrapped around the older man.

As one, still one, they shifted and moved until they had unfolded from each other, but still embraced. Tired but exultant eyes gazed deeply, mouths raised in fulfilled smiles, chests filled with satisfied sighs.

Knowing they were safe and sound, they dropped into much needed sleep.

…


	8. The Radiance

… The Radiance

It was inevitable, their coming together. It was just a matter of stars aligning, fates smiling, wheels turning and gears meshing. Once started there was no going back. Not that either one of them wanted to.

No indeedy.

Having discovered the delights of physical intimacy and how it added to their profound friendship from a spark caused by a shared moment of solace and then flared into burning conflagration during that fateful train ride and in the hotel room afterward, they continued to explore this new and intriguing adventure once they returned home, trying out innovative positions and postures. Ever the investigator, Tintin read many a manual for tips and suggestions. He also began to read classic novels he never thought he'd be interested in – such as those written by Oscar Wilde and others of the same ilk, claiming they were for 'inspiration'. They both knew better.

The Captain, having more experience in the matter (not to mention the fact that they were still keeping this to themselves and the thought of the boy reporter visiting such establishments would raise the world's eyebrows exceedingly high) had taken it upon himself to stop at various shops that sold such merchandise and bring home several intriguing toys and devices that they couldn't wait to try out.

The only one they had brought into their confidence was the ever discreet butler. They figured there was no way they were going to be able to keep hands and mouths off each other in the confines of their home, nor should they have to.

Nestor had taken the news with his usual reserved manner, his eyes widening slightly. After a moment's reflection he had nodded, gave them his blessing along with his congratulations (and a barely heard 'about time') and proceeded to order additional sheets, knowing they'd be needed on a more frequent basis. He hoped there wouldn't need any reason to fortify the chandeliers, but called in carpenters just in case the two became more adventurous than usual. The butler also began to order extra red meat, knowing that his charges would need all the protein they could get. The man was incredibly efficient.

Snowy was content with this new development, as it meant he could chase the cat more without getting into trouble since his master and the Captain had become more interested in each other than in anything else. The only complaint he had was when he found himself shoved to the floor by two very active bed partners who should be sleeping at this time of night.

When a case finally reared its head and demanded attention, they had reached a point where such things could actually be focused upon and then they were off. It didn't slow them down any, just added a nice change of venue to their activities – the once routine hotel room, cabin in the woods, tent pitched on mountain side or just lying together huddled together under cold skies meant they'd have to keep each other nice and warm, safe and sound, comfy cozy – in a new and very saisfying way, that's all.

They were more careful than ever, knowing they had so much more to lose and almost ended up letting the criminals get away with it, rather than risk being kidnapped, beaten up, drugged or dispatched in some highly inventive way. But they managed to bring the case to a close and returned victorious once more, for once in the same shape as when they had left.

But they were both happy to relax in the comfort of their home and in the comfort of each other's embrace.

That's what made adventures – hell – life itself, all worthwhile.

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

I wanted to stir things up just a little in this fic and make both of them willing and able to become lovers. Most of us (including me!) portray Tintin either as the naive waif or the wanton vixen, with the Captain as either wanting the boy forever or completely overwhelmed but very willing to indulge the boy's desires (and there ain't nuthin' wrong with either!), but here they are both adults, just two adults who hadn't quite realized the attraction they felt towards each other. And when they did - fireworks!

As always - thankyouthankyouthankyou for all your wonderful reviews! To know my stories are appreciated, looked forward to and enjoyed is simply...too much for words. Thank you is not enough. Really. Bless you.


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